Worth It
by RPWriters
Summary: A visit to the hairdresser brings back too many memories. For Sakura, every 'snip' of the scissors, every falling strand of pink, is a reminder of why it was worth it.


**W****orth It**

Sakura's resolve never faltered whilst training under Tsunade. Her determination and hard work were met with deep-seated approval, but it wasn't for the recognition that the girl pushed herself to the limit. It was for herself, for Naruto, and above all else for Sasuke.

Every morning after a cold shower, she pulled a comb through her short locks - the only attention she ever paid them, and a far cry from the times she awoke hours early to shower, blow dry, comb, brush and fluff her hair - and shrugged on her clothes. She'd been forced to add to her attire when protecting her elbows and shins became necessary. Then, right before she darted out the front door and hurried to her morning warm-ups, she turned and stared into the mirror for a long moment, observing her lean frame, her harsh jade eyes, the slight scar on her left temple and most of all the pink bangs which fell about her face.

With a slight frown, she realised her hair was growing out again, and would need to be cut. Ordinarily, there would be no problem - using a kunai had worked well enough for her in the past - but last month Ino had finally worked out how Sakura kept her hair short and had thrown a fit, agonizing over how she was ruining it all and how it was so _messy_! The blonde girl had taken Sakura to the hairdresser immediately, despite Sakura being due for a training session with Hinata.

Ino had also made Sakura promise to never use a kunai again, and as much as Sakura was tempted to just use a shuriken, she knew Ino would despair. For the day, then, she'd just tie it back, and get it cut later.

-x-

As it turned out, Tsunade gave her the day off. Wryly contemplating the coincidence, Sakura jogged to the civillian hairdresser, whom she had been going to since she was born, and was a good friend of.

"Tsumuki?" she called, pushing open the door and kicking off her boots. The woman in question was graceful and tall, with shiny brunette hair that curled to her lower back. Sakura had been jealous of that hair before - so long! - but now she could just appreciate it.

"Miss Sakura, you're back!" Tsumuki sang, dropping her magazine and dancing over to her. "I hope you're just trimming?"

"Sorry, Tsumuki," Sakura grinned at her painfully - a visit to the hairdresser brought back too many memories of _why_ her hair was so short to be truly enjoyable - and sat in the chair. "I want it cut as short as possible."

Tsumuki gave a long-suffering sigh as she collected her tools and draped a sheet over Sakura's front. "My my, you break my heart, Miss Sakura," she complained. "I still don't understand why you cut it off in the first place. It was so gorgeous! Many girls would kill to have your hair, you know."

_And it was the reason I was almost killed_, Sakura replied silently. Out loud, she just said, "I had my reasons. Besides, it's too inconvenient, especially as I am a shinobi."

"That doesn't bother Miss Ino," Tsumuki pointed out playfully, combing out Sakura's hair. "She cut hers, yes, but she's growing it out again. Clever girl," she said with a laugh.

"Yeah, but Ino specializes in long-distance techniques. I'm more of a taijutsu and medical jutsu fighter," Sakura explained, unsure of whether Tsumuki would understand the relevence.

"Was it worth it, cutting your hair?" the hairdresser asked.

Sakura was silent, memories exploding in her mind's eye. Finally she spoke again. "Yeah, it was."

"Will you ever grow it out again?"

This question was infinitely more difficult. Would she? Maybe if - _when_ - Sasuke returned to Konoha, she would allow it out again. Maybe. "I don't know," Sakura replied honestly.

"Mm." But Tsumuki didn't comment again, now intent upon the task at hand. Sakura stared, outwardly dispassionate, into the mirror and watched as strands of gossamer pink fell to the floor and from her face. A healing wound on her neck was revealed; then a bruise under her jaw. The scar on her temple was thrown into sharp relief when her fringe was chopped shorter and thinner. Tsumuki had commented in the past that she was worried for Sakura's safety - how could any teenage girl have so many wounds? - but the younger girl had put her fears to rest. This was all from her training with Tsunade.

Every pink strand falling was a testament to her will. Every quiet _snip_ of the scissors was the overture to her goal. Every slight whisper against her skin was the knowledge that she would get stronger; she would _help_.

Every time she cut her hair, she was reaffirming her new reason for existing. She was fuelling her determination, cutting off the past and growing, moving toward the future.

Looking into the mirror as Tsumuki declared she was done, Sakura silently approved of the image she saw. Short hair. Hard eyes. A thin face. A truly strong shinobi, if - at the moment - only on the outside. She was strong, she was training, and she was determined.

Paying and waving goodbye to Tsumuki, Sakura jogged back to her regular training grounds and started working again. She needed to get stronger. She needed to help Naruto. She needed to save Sasuke.

It was all worth it, in the end. Relentlessly cutting her hair, never giving it the chance to grow out. It was a symbol, a pledge to move forward, to work for herself, for Naruto. And most of all for Sasuke.


End file.
